


hope is wild

by AerisaHale



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Former Military Nyssa al Ghul, Gym Owner Sara Lance, Self-Defense Teacher Sara Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25798831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AerisaHale/pseuds/AerisaHale
Summary: Sara is the owner and an instructor at a women's gym in the Glades where she empowers women through self-defense classes and resources. Nyssa is a former soldier looking for a job she believes in. A new gang threatens Sara and the city but she's never been easily intimidated. Things get more complicated when an attempt to raze Sara's gym and the Glades sets off a sequence of events that could have devastating consequences for both Starling and Gotham City.
Relationships: Nyssa al Ghul/Sara Lance
Comments: 40
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a chaptered fic in quite a while, so any feedback is very appreciated. I am planning this to be four or five chapters and I already have half of it written out. Updates will come weekly on Sundays. Please enjoy!

The sharp, succinct rap of knuckles on her door rouses Sara from sleep. Brain still catching up with what her body was responding to, she has just enough awareness to pull some shorts on over the underwear she slept in and ran a quick hand through her sleep mussed hair, wincing as her fingers catch on a tangle. A glance at the clock as she makes her way to the front door of her apartment tells her it’s eight in the morning and she’s already mourning the hour she could have further slept.

Without enough forethought to check the peephole, she twists the deadbolt open and then the doorknob, opening the door just enough to peek out. At the sight of the most gorgeous woman she has ever laid her eyes on, she opens the door enough to slot herself into it and put on her most appealing smirk.

At the woman’s own smirk and raised eyebrow, Sara wonders at the effectiveness of her own expression but loses that train of thought as her eyes wander down an exquisitely dressed torso to rest on the envelopes held in her hands. Later she would blame it on her sleep addled mind but instead of finding a proper response she just squints one eye closed and her mouth curls up as if the light of a thousand suns was trying to blind her. She is too focused on smoothing her expression to realize the woman is speaking. “What was that?”

“I said,” the woman says, voice deeper than Sara expected, with the most beautiful lilting accent she’s ever heard, “I received your mail. We have the same apartment number, however, I live in the next building over.”

“Oh,” is all Sara manages.

Nyssa holds the mail out to her and immediately walks away after Sara grabs it from her. The woman smiles over her shoulder and Sara only has eyes for the way she looks at her through her eyelashes. “Apologies for waking you, Ms. Lance.”

\--

The next several days finds Sara checking her own mail, punctually, every day. She won’t admit to anyone that she sometimes checks it twice a day, and she definitely won’t admit she’s hoping to see a different building designation that her own. Just a simple mistake, mailwoman, that’s all she’s asking. To her disappointment, it doesn’t happen.

It’s a few more days after that and Sara has mostly forgotten the encounter. If her mind wanders to that beautiful smile thrown back at her when her attention strays while doing her job, well, she doesn’t let it affect her work. That is, until a fist hits squarely into her chest and knocks the wind out of her.

The eyes of the blonde woman in front of her widen and her mouth falls into an ‘o’. “I’m so sorry, Instructor Lance.”

She sucks in a breath as soon as she can and squeezes the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t be. That was great, Sydney.”

The woman smiles under the praise but shakes her head. “No, no, I just got lucky.”

Sara’s eyebrows raise, chin lifting. “Luck is what you make it in self-defense. You take any and every opening,” she says, before a grin breaks over her face and she finishes, “including your instructor’s wandering thoughts.”

Sydney laughs at that. “Shall we call it a day, then? Time was up ten minutes ago but I figured I’d take the extra instruction.”

A glance at the clock has Sara’s stomach reminding her that she skipped lunch as she bids Sydney a goodnight. She gives one-on-one lessons after the group lessons throughout the day and Sydney is her last for the day. Following her student out of the gym, she locks the door after she leaves. Her stomach growls again and Sara sighs at it, reminding it that after she cleans everything, Big Belly Burger is waiting for her on her way home.

She has just about finished when she hears a knock on the door, very unusual after-hours. The figure beyond the door is hidden behind the signage on the door, but Sara can tell it’s a woman. Her brows furrow as worry curls in her belly, thoughts of abuse skittering through her mind. Hustling to the door, she draws in a sharp breath as she opens it.

“Ms. Lance!” The woman from last week sounds just as surprised as she is. “I apologize for how late it is, but I keep odd hours and I saw the lights on. Are you…the owner of this establishment?”

“Call me Sara, please, and yes, I am. Sara Lance of Canary Women’s Gym. How may I help you, Ms…?

“Nyssa al Ghul. I’m hoping to enquire about the instructor’s position. I picked up an application earlier and have it here with a copy of my resume.” The brunette holds out the proffered papers.

“I never got a chance to thank you,” Sara says as she unfolds the papers and looks up to meet Nyssa’s dark eyes. “Thank you.”

She busies herself with reading the woman’s resume: Two deployments with special ops in Kandahar. Four years of private military contracting. Overqualified. The rigidity of her stance, the seamless ‘at ease’ posture tells Sara as much as the papers before her. “You’re clearly more than qualified to teach our classes. I normally require a demonstration, but I won’t belittle you by asking that.”

The woman smiles, clearly pleased. “I believe in why you do this, Sara. No woman should suffer at the hands of men.”

Hearing her name roll off Nyssa’s tongue makes Sara’s knees weak. Her stomach reminds her that it may not be just her developing crush sapping the strength from her body. She turns and locks the papers Nyssa had given her into a filing cabinet and grabs a sheet of paper from a stack on the counter. “These are my classes. I’d like to see you come in and observe a few, see how your teaching style compares to mine. Let’s start with the group classes this week and I’ll talk to some of the women about sitting in on our one-on-one’s.”

Nyssa takes a moment to read over the schedule. “That shouldn’t be a problem, Ms. Lance. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

\--

The Big Belly Burger hit just right as Sara sat at one of the outdoor picnic tables, pure bliss rolling over her tongue even as a bit of grease smudged the corner of her mouth. It was long dark, but the parking lot lights were enough to illuminate the entire parking lot. Enough so that she had plenty of warning of the three men that come to order as she is halfway through her meal.

Once they are ordering, she can see who they are it makes her scowl. The first two men are similar, dark hair, dark eyes and an average build. Their names are Billy and Thomas Farrow. Sara had an encounter with Thomas a few years ago, after his wife had come to Sara for help, that left a scar across his left eyebrow and cheek. Thomas and his brother, along with a few friends, had showed up at Sara’s gym where she was housing Callie until the woman could get back on her feet. Sara had shown them that she was not a woman they could push around.

As much as Sara hated Billy and especially Thomas, she found an even deeper loathing for the third man of their usual posse, Christopher Hale. The last man is blonde, buzz cut, and former military. In the years since their first encounter, Christopher had begun to fancy himself the leader of one of the up and coming gangs following the devastating earthquake that wrecked The Glades of Starling City last year.

Sara had a close relationship with the local women’s shelter and made it a point to volunteer as much of her time as she could spare. In her time there, she had the displeasure of taking several women he had raped and beaten to the hospital. They all had their reasons, but no one would press charges against him.

So, Sara Lance made it her sworn duty to be the biggest thorn in his side that she could and it was about time for him to come harass her. He grinned at her as he and his friends sat at the table Sara occupied, casually unwrapping his food. “Hey Sar-bear, how’s it hanging?”

The scowl on her face deepened and her appetite fled as her anger rose. “Not tonight, Christopher, or I’m liable to cut your dick off and feed it to you.”

Christopher grinned and looked at each of his friends. “Three against one isn’t a very fair fight. Don’t worry, Lance, I like my women to think they have a chance.”

His friends laughed with him. Sara slammed her hands onto the table and feinted toward Thomas with a sneer on her face, laughing at his own flinch. “You’re right, three on one isn’t a fair fight.”

With those parting words, Sara left the table and dumped her trash into the labeled can. Christopher yelled to her, “Your time is coming, Sara. Mark my words.”

Sara rounds on them and grabs Billy by the shirt and shoves him out of the way so that she can get right into Christopher’s face. “Mark my words, Christopher Hale, my father being a police officer is the only thing standing between you and I.”

Christopher’s head lolls back and Sara is not quick enough to dodge him bringing his forehead down into her nose, blood issuing forth immediately. She growls as she grabs an arm and twists it behind him before shoving him out of the way. He falls to the ground and Sara uses the opening to get a kick in against Thomas’, who was standing behind Christopher.

By this time, Billy recovers from her initial shove and grabs her under each arm and drags her away from his brother. She lifts both feet from the ground, forcing him to bear her weight and slams her foot backwards into his knee causing him to screech and drop her. She’s ready for it and lands properly to spring forward and get a solid punch against Christopher’s jaw.

Thomas is crowding her from the left and she turns to him. She ducks a punch and slams an elbow into his ribs, bringing a knee up into his groin. He doubles over and falls to the ground, giving Sara time to turn back to Billy behind her. She isn’t quick enough to dodge the fist flying at her jaw and it catches her eye as she attempts to duck.

She gets ahold of that arm and flips him over herself, planting a foot into his throat as a glint catches her attention out of the corner of her eye. She shifts her entire weight into Billy’s throat, experience moving her before she could think about any irreversible damage she might cause. It caused the knife in Christopher’s hand to hit nothing but air and she used his momentum to pull him forward and make him stumble.

Just as the blonde man is rounding on her for another attempt, the sirens of police cars can be heard in the distance and he starts to pull Billy to his feet. The two of them sling Thomas between the two of them as they limp away, leaving Sara standing there panting, covered in blood. She falls onto her ass as the first cop car rolls up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay, I got buried in homework and forgot to post this! :o

“I’m fine, dad! It was just Christopher and his lot. Nothing I can’t handle.” Sara glares at Quentin who is scowling back at her. He had been ranting and pacing in her apartment for the entire morning after taking her home from the hospital last night. She had protested going but was forced to as part of giving her statement to the police once her father had shown up.

It only stops when there’s a knock at the door. Sara races Quentin to get to the door first, whispering, “Dad, put your gun away! It’s probably just Laurel.”

It is not Laurel. It is Nyssa, concern drawing her brows together as she lifts a hand as if to touch Sara’s face but stops herself, hand falling back to her side. “I came to see if everything was alright after you weren’t at the gym this morning.”

Sara had called a friend of hers to cover the group classes last night and cancelled her individual classes this morning but had completely forgotten about asking Nyssa to come shadow her. One part of her curses her mistake and another relishes in the thought that the former soldier has sought her out.

“I can leave. I know it’s unorthodox due to the way in which I know where you live but I—” Nyssa starts but is cut off by Sara asking her to come in. She obliges and lets Sara close the door behind her, eyes on the blonde. “But I wanted to know that you were alright. What happened?”

“Nyssa, this is my father, Quentin Lance. Dad, this is Nyssa, a neighbor and new instructor at the gym.” Sara watches Nyssa turn and stand at attention when she realizes there is someone else there.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. I am Nyssa al Ghul.” She holds a hand out and shakes Quentin’s hand firmly. She watches curiously as he grabs her hand and runs his fingers over hers.

“Sniper?” he asks and is rewarded with a curt nod. “Served three tours, including Desert Storm.”

“Two, Khandar,” Nyssa says and purses her lips at the sound of Quentin sucking air through his teeth, but she relaxes marginally when he leaves it at that. She turns to Sara. “What happened?”

The blonde chuckles. “You should see the other guys.”

Sara relaxed into the corner of the couch and patted the seat next to her. Nyssa sat beside her, face serious as she says, “Tell me about them.”

Quentin sits in the armchair adjacent to the couch, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers to his temples. Sara shoots Nyssa a look and then eyes her father meaningfully before she asks, “Dad, would you mind grabbing some lunch for us?”

Her dad scoffs. “Actually, Sara, I’d like to hear about them, too.”

Giving him her best puppy-dog eyes, she asks, “Please?”

Quentin gets up and sighs. “Fine. I’ll be back in a bit.”

After the door closes, silence descends on the living room. Sara takes some time to take in Nyssa’s appearance. She’s wearing a short-sleeve cardigan and jeans but she makes the outfit look more elegant than Sara could ever pull off. Her dark hair is pulled up into a high bun, not a single hair out of place. At the edge of the shirt sleeve, Sara sees the silvery mark of a scar. She reaches out and runs her thumb up the length of it, pushing the sleeve up as she does so. “What happened?”

“I caught the edge of a knife in close-quarters combat. At this particular moment, I’d like to hear more about your attackers.” A disapproving twist of Nyssa’s mouth has Sara swallowing a lump in her throat.

“Three guys,” Sara begins and relays the story about Thomas and Christopher, then describing their intimidation tactic from the night before. Throughout the entire story, Nyssa listens attentively, brows rising further into her hairline with every passing moment. Sara counts the ticks of the clock as she waits in silence for Nyssa to say something.

“Okay.”

“…Okay?”

“I would like permission to stay by your side until we resolve this.” Nyssa’s full attention is on Sara and the blonde is almost overwhelmed by it. She tamps down her nerves and ignores the fluttering in her stomach. She stares at the brunette.

“Define ‘by my side’?”

“At all times. I am familiar with personal protection.”

Sara snorts. “I can take care of myself.”

Nyssa reaches out and presses her thumb into Sara’s ribs, causing the blonde to wince in pain. “Not right now, you cannot.”

The door opens at that moment and Quentin enters, hands full of bags, and says, “On that, we agree, Ms. al Ghul.”

\--

Sara gets the next week of her group classes covered, half by the same friend, Dinah Drake, and half by her sister. She keeps her one-on-one’s for the rest of the week and decides a trial by fire would be the best orientation for Nyssa and Sara’s income. Nyssa doesn’t appear nervous in the slightest.

They’re just finishing up with third appointment when the fourth and final woman enters. Sydney waves at Sara who waves back and heads into the changing room. Sara is seated on a folding chair at the edge of the mat and taking in the view as Nyssa bends over to wipe the mat down for their next class.

A smirk steals Sara’s face when Nyssa turns back just in time to catch where her eyes had been. She can’t help the blush when Nyssa bends again, quite deliberately, wiping a spot they both knew was already clean. Sara makes up for the blush with the confidence in her voice as she says, “Quite clean, Nyssa. Thanks.”

The door to the locker room swings open and Sydney walks out. Her short blonde hair is pressed to her head by a headband and she has on a ribbed tanktop and sports capris. Had Sara met her anywhere else, she would have found the woman very attractive, but not as her student. Sara kept firm boundaries.

Finally seeing her up close, Sydney’s eyes widen as she takes in Sara’s appearance. “What happened?”

Sara waved it off with an easy smile. “Got in a fight I wasn’t expecting, but everything is fine. No worries. Nyssa is a new instructor here and she’s going to be filling in for me until I’m less sore.”

“Sounds good,” Sydney replies, starting to stretch her limbs. Nyssa joins her and they both move through stretches that warm up every part of their bodies under Sara’s watchful eye. She’s impressed for the fourth time that day by Nyssa’s perfectly textbook form. She’s also pleased with the gentle encouragement Nyssa offers Sydney.

“What were you learning?” Nyssa asks Sydney after they’ve finished with the stretches.

“Defense with counterattack,” Sydney replies and moves her feet into a solid stance.

“She needs work on her timing,” Sara offers.

“Alright,” Nyssa explains and moves into a position opposite her new student. “I’m going to try and punch you, slow at first, to get a feel for where you’re at. Okay?”

Sydney nods and she moves her arms up into a defensive position. Nyssa moves a fist towards her, too slow to call an actual punch. Sydney knocks her arm away with her left hand and mimes her own punch with her right. Nyssa hums her approval. “Now, I will be faster.”

Still too slow to call a punch, they repeat the moves. “Good form. Make sure you keep your elbow up.”

Again, but faster. “Good. Again.”

Several practices later, Nyssa says, “Now for real.”

Nyssa moves a real punch toward Sydney and is impressed when the woman is only fractionally too late. “Just a little bit sooner. You hit a little too close to my elbow.”

Again.

“Good. Focus on the timing.”

Again.

“Watch your wrist,” Sara adds.

Again.

“Perfect,” Nyssa says with a smile.

“You’ve always picked the form up quickly.” Sara nods.

Sydney all but glows under the praise and quips, “This is like two for the price of one. I’ve gotten great deals here lately.”

“Hey, you got one free hit for those ten minutes!” Sara winks at her and they both laugh.

Nyssa cocks her head and Sara grins. “I was a bit distracted and Sydney reaped the benefits, the same night you came in.”

“Oh?” A brow arches on Nyssa’s beautiful face and Sara swoons inside.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about a mail mix-up earlier in the week. Now, let’s start on chokeholds!”

Sydney gets into position and Sara spends the rest of the session pretending she’s not thinking about Nyssa’s arms wrapping around her in a much less violent demonstration than is currently being held. Catching Nyssa’s eyes wandering to her every so often doesn’t help.

After Sydney’s session is finished, Nyssa cleans and sanitizes the entire gym, forcing Sara back into her seat every time she tries to help. Three attempts later, the blonde accepts her fate and huffs, crossing her arms. Nyssa works in silence as Sara files paperwork that she dragged over after she had locked up. Finishing before Nyssa gives Sara too much time to think, so she fills the silence with her voice. “You’re overqualified for this and we both know it. What brings you to job hunt in the Glades of Starling City?”

An answer doesn’t come right away. She knows Nyssa heard her so Sara simply waits and is rewarded a few minutes later. “After Kandahar, I worked for my father.”

“The contractor company on your resume?”

Nyssa nods. “He is involved in many things. Some of it actually helps the United States. Most of it only helps himself. My last assignment from him…didn’t end well. I lost my sister.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Nyssa,” Sara breathes as she heaves herself up and wraps a hand firmly over Nyssa’s shoulder. It trembles under her palm and she squeezes.

The brunette turns to her and venom fills her voice as she says, “She died because he ordered her to retrieve information doing ‘whatever it takes’. I can no longer work for a man who values no price too high, even his own daughter.”

Sara decides to make her earlier daydreams a reality and envelops Nyssa in a hug. To Sara's surprise, the soldier does not hesitate to return it.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas hands Billy an envelope. “Should you even be smoking after what blondie bitch did to your neck? Boss wants you to take that to Mr. W at the docks.”

Billy glares at his brother and takes a drag from the cigarette before exhaling his response, “Wants me to or wants you to and you’re just too lazy?”

The scar on his face adds to the effect of the frown Thomas gives. “You. Boss’s got another job for me.”

\--

Nyssa asks—all but demands, if anyone listens to Sara tell it—to sleep on Sara’s couch while she is recuperating. Sara grumbles but allows her to stay when she threatens to camp outside her apartment door. 

Four days have passed in which she and Sara have spent the days playing cards and watching movies when Nyssa’s not teaching Sara’s classes. They grocery shop once together, drop some mail off, pay a bill, and it all feels so domestic, Nyssa almost forgets her purpose for being there as she and Sara get to know each other more and more every day.

Almost.

She wakes when the door opens with a thud. Training has her gun in hand, safety off, and pointed at the door when it opens. The reporter on the local news network speaks assuredly from the TV she forgot to turn off last night, drowning out any other noise as she waits the few seconds, tense, until Quentin walks in. He takes her in with judging eyes and says, “Not bad.”

Flicking the safety back on, she tucks the gun into her ankle holster and eyes the brunette woman that came in behind Sara’s father. She is well-dressed and carries two grocery bags in her arms that Nyssa takes from her and sets on the kitchen island.

“This is Laurel, my oldest. Laurel, this is a new instructor from Sara’s gym,” Quentin introduces as he begins pulling food out of the bags.

“Nice to meet you.” Laurel smiles and bumps her hip against her father. “ _You’re_ not trying to cook, are you?”

“I can cook!” he protests.

“Frozen food and?” Laurel quirks a brow as she grabs the milk and eggs from Quentin’s hands.

“And…spaghetti.”

“Does it feel like a spaghetti kind of morning?” Laurel laughs at Quentin’s protests and it all draws a smile out of Nyssa. This is what she imagined life might have been like if her mother were still around. The nostalgia washes over her and she offers to help Laurel cook. Nyssa turns off the television—not before she catches the headline: _Gotham Mayor to Visit Starling City Next Month_ —and sets to washing her hands.

“Nyssa, right? Sara’s told me a bit about you. Cut these up and put them in this bowl?” Laurel hands Nyssa a small bag of potatoes and a large bowl.

“Peeled or unpeeled?”

“Peeled,” Laurel and Quentin say at the same time. Laurel glares at her father who throws his hands up.

“I can see when I’m not wanted. I’m gonna go do, I don’t know, something.”

From the living room, Nyssa hears the television turn back on. She busies herself with peeling and cutting potatoes while Laurel works on frying bacon and sausage. The oldest Lance sister is far more competent in the kitchen than Nyssa ever will be and she dutifully follows her orders. When Nyssa’s finished her task, she finds Laurel looking at her. She looks back.

“I get the feeling my baby sister’s important to you. Call it a lawyer’s intuition, if you want,” Laurel starts, side-eyeing her with a knowing look.

“I do find that I care if she’s hurt,” Nyssa admits.

“So much so, that you are sleeping in her apartment.” The older Lance’s sly smile makes Nyssa unable to quite meet her eyes without warmth spreading across her cheeks. She had not thought herself so obvious. Laurel’s side-eye turns into a full ‘I’ve got you now’ expression that Nyssa is sure she’s worn in the courtroom before.

This is when Sara chooses to join them in the kitchen, sleep clearly still seducing her back to its embrace. Nyssa smiles at the same rumpled look she wore the first time she met her. Nyssa has never seen anyone pull off cute with tangles in their hair and sleep lines pressed into their face, but here she is. Sara smiles at her and Nyssa’s world narrows to those lips.

“Hello, Sara. I’m over here, too.” Laurel smirks and Sara blushes.

The blonde moves into Laurel’s space and tries to steal a piece of bacon from the plate beside her sister, but her hand is smacked away. Sara whines, “Laurel!”

“No, sisters who don’t say hi don’t get bacon. Go get dad, it’s almost done.”

Once they finish breakfast, Nyssa piles the dishes into the sink as Sara says her farewells to her family. She walks back into the entryway just as Quentin says, “Been a lotta vandalism in the Glades, lately. After what happened at Big Belly, I just want you to be careful, okay, Sara?”

“I promise. I will be careful, Dad. Besides, I’ve got Nyssa, too. _Believe me_ when I tell you I couldn’t get rid of her if I wanted to.” Sara winks at her.

“I would die before I let anything happen to your daughter,” Nyssa says it and knows she means it, feels it in every fiber of her.

“Well, here’s hoping!” Quentin says. Laurel swats him in the arm as they walk out together, but not before she sends one more wink in Nyssa’s direction. Sara closes the door behind them and locks it, turning and facing Nyssa as she sags against the door.

“Sorry about that.”

Nyssa chuckles. “Do not worry about it. The sentiment is endearing. I wish my family were the same.”

“You say that now! Wait ‘til you get to know them better!”

A smile tugs its way to Sara’s lips and Nyssa finds she still can’t look away so she bodily turns herself towards the kitchen and begins washing the dishes. Sara protests but Nyssa is stubborn. It may distract her from giving herself away, but it does not stop her mind filling with thoughts of the blonde woman who frequently occupies her mind since their first meeting.

When Sara had answered the door then, Nyssa’s breath was stolen. Blue eyes blinked at her and Nyssa is sure Sara was too sleep addled to realize her eyes had widened and she had flung open the door with much more force than necessary. Nyssa had thought it a quick deed, to ensure the owner got their mail. She did not expect to become smitten. She did not expect Sara.

It was pure coincidence that Dinah Drake, an old member from her unit, worked at Sara’s gym and referred her. She knew it was unprofessional to apply for a job so late but she was anxious enough that she headed there right after having dinner with Dinah. 

She certainly has not appreciated the circumstances, but she has enjoyed getting to know Sara and her family, so different from her own. Her own father only appreciated what she brought to the table and they were not on speaking terms since she left, not for his lack of trying. The warmth she felt with them today was foreign but not unwelcome.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of Sara’s phone from the kitchen table and she dries her hands quickly to hand the phone to the other woman before the blonde has a chance to get up. Curling a lip in a sneer—though there’s no malice behind it—Sara grabs her phone and answers it. Nyssa heads back to finish up the last few dishes and give the woman privacy for her call.

Turning in time to catch the angry look on Sara’s face as she thuds into the kitchen, Nyssa quickly puts the last dish on the drainer. “What’s wrong?”

“Apparently someone broke into the gym last night and trashed the place, took any equipment they couldn’t break. Everything’s useless. I have to get down there. Dinah called the cops.”

Nyssa grabs her jacket as soon as she hears ‘broke in’.

\--

The heartbreak on Sara’s face the moment the police let her inside to survey the damage is something Nyssa will remember for a very long time. The soldier in her itches for intel, for something to do, someone to hunt. Instead, she wraps her arms around Sara and can feel her shaking. At first, Nyssa suspects she is crying but finds the pure fury that replaced the heartbroken expression. Nyssa allows herself to mirror it back to her when they part.

“Who did this, Sara?” Dinah asks as she walks back in from giving her statement to the police.

Sara shakes her head. “They wore masks till they spray painted the cameras in the gym; I’ve only got two and there’s none outside the gym. Nothing that can be proven, but I’d bet money it was Mirakuru.”

At Nyssa’s look of confusion, Dinah adds, “Christopher’s gang.”

An overturned chair from the reception desk receives a bout of Sara’s fury before she takes a deep breath. “We’re going to have to close for a while until I can find the money to get new equipment. I’ll issue refunds for the women who paid ahead and they all need to know they can go to the shelter if they need anything. I’ll find a way to pay you, Dinah, until we can get up and going again.”

Dinah reaches out and squeezes Sara’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get by just fine.”

Sara pulls out her cellphone and pulls a stack of papers out of a still-locked drawer in the desk and begins making phone calls. While Sara’s busy with that, Nyssa and Dinah start throwing away anything that is unsalvageable.

“Tell me about this Mirakuru,” Nyssa says as she throws bits of a sliced-up mat into a garbage bag.

Dinah eyes her like she knows what Nyssa’s thinking. “They’re nothing even you can take on single-handedly at this point. Sara just has the misfortune of having a history with their ranking members.”

“Dinah, please…”

Dinah huffs and sets the trash bag in her hands down. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard you ask for something like this. You really care about her.”

“I do.”

“Alright, here’s what I know. Sara protects women, she protected a woman whose man at the time now runs this gang, same with a couple of his friends. Sara _protects_ women and they don’t like that. They’ve always messed with her, but it’s been escalating recently. They came up in drugs but I hear they’re getting into weapons, have some hookup from the army that is supplying them.”

Nyssa thinks she can find someone who knows their supplier. She still has connections from her time in the Marines, but it will be trickier to access them without alerting her father to her location. Her eyes find Sara, phone still pressed to her ear as she writes something down, and a firm resolve settles on her shoulders.

“I remember that look,” Dinah says, pointedly raising her brows, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I am a lot of things, Drake, but we both know stupid is not one of them.”

“I’m worried you might be where _she’s_ involved. She’s like a sister to me and she doesn’t need any further trouble if whatever your planning falls through. I also don't want to see you get hurt.”

“ _No one_ will touch her again. On my life.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I posted one chapter late, here's one a little early. ;) Enjoy!

The next two weeks pass unremarkably.

The debris and broken equipment have been cleared from the gym and Sara has spent a lot of time on the phone with and visiting banks, trying to secure a loan. Sara laments that her credit is not as good as she wishes but her father offers to cosign the loan for her with a lack of hesitation that makes her heart soar at the trust. The first two she had tried had already denied her and as she walks out of the third bank with Nyssa at her heels, anxiety settles over her.

“You’re tense,” Nyssa murmurs even as she surveys the parking lot with vigilant eyes as they walk back to Sara’s motorcycle.

“I have been able to help so many people with that gym, people like Sydney, who came to me after being raped to learn to defend themselves in the hopes it never happens again. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t get it running again.”

Sara hands Nyssa her spare helmet and slides her own on. Mounting first, Sara starts the bike and then holds it steady as Nyssa climbs on behind her, arms wrapping around her middle. Sara cannot help herself from leaning back into the embrace and neither says anything as Nyssa grips her tighter. Nyssa’s arms loosen when Sara leans forward again and takes off.

Instead of turning towards her apartment, Sara heads in the opposite direction. The urge to keep Nyssa pressed against the length of her back, spurs her into spontaneity. Getting out of the city takes several minutes in the midday traffic, but it is not too long before she’s driving down the highway. Shortly after that she is pulling up to a beach with a large parking lot and a busy boardwalk.

“Why are we here?” Nyssa asks as she hands her helmet back to Sara who tucks them into the saddlebags on either side of the rear of the motorcycle.

“I just wanted to get away from it all.” Sara figures a half-truth is better than the whole of it. She can’t bear facing Nyssa’s rejection right now. “Come on.”

They walk the length of the boardwalk, slowly, taking in the sights the various shops offer. Nyssa smiles when Sara stops at a clothing shop and puts on a strange purple and yellow cowboy hat. She places a black fedora on Nyssa’s head and her heart skips a beat when the woman smiles shyly. If only to keep looking at her in it, she purchases it for her, despite Nyssa’s protests.

A few shops later, Nyssa catches her admiring a necklace with a canary made of silver with yellow gems. She must have been looking for longer than she realized because Nyssa is already holding her own bag of purchases when she offers to buy it for her. Sara protests but Nyssa reminds her about the hat until she acquiesces.

She holds her hair up while Nyssa fastens it at the nape of her neck. Goosebumps raise and she shivers lightly as Nyssa’s knuckles brush across her skin. She already misses the contact as she turns around, hand raising to finger the jewelry resting in the hollow below her neck. “Thank you, Nyssa.”

When they reach the place where the walkway ends and the sand begins, they stop. Sara considers continuing forward but takes in their shoes before shaking her head. “We’re not really dressed for the beach, are we?”

“We could have been.” Sara wonders if she’s being rebuked, until Nyssa adds, “But I have enjoyed being here, nonetheless.”

Sara finds a spot against the nearby railing, leaning against it as she gazes out across the vastness of the ocean. Seagulls cry out and flock toward a small child that is holding their food too high, or perhaps deliberately, and Sara chuckles. The crash of the waves against the beach make her close her eyes and listen. When she opens them as she turns, Nyssa is looking at her from where she is seated on the bench opposite to Sara.

“My life isn’t usually this exciting, by the way,” Sara says as she takes a seat next to the brunette. The wooden bench they share is old and her fingers run over a carving of initials in a heart.

“Oh? I hadn’t noticed any excitement.” Humor makes Nyssa’s dark eyes sparkle and Sara chuckles as she turns her gaze to the ground.

“What I should be saying is thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. These past few weeks would have been tough without you.”

Nyssa’s nose scrunches up and Sara has to take a deep breath to settle the fluttering in her chest. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’ve done more than you know.”

Sara had not realized when their faces got so close and she cannot help her eyes flicking down to Nyssa’s lips. She does not know if it’s the peaceful sounds of the waves or simply the want overpowering her will to keep their friendship the same, but she feels brazen enough to lean forward, heart racing.

“Sara?” a man’s voice asks just before she can press her lips to Nyssa’s and Sara scowls at the owner.

“Slade. What brings you out here?” Sara grinds out.

“Why, the beautiful ocean, as I’m sure you’re here to see as well.” His eyes slide to Nyssa. “Or perhaps not. Hello, I’m Slade Wilson. Sara rents her gym from me. I own most of the properties in the Glades.”

Nyssa inclines her head but does not speak.

“I heard about the gym. Have they caught who’s responsible?” Slade asks.

Sara shakes her head. “No, they don’t know who did it.”

“Do you?”

“I have my suspicions and they’ll get what’s coming to them, sooner or later.”

“Let’s hope sooner rather than later.” Slade smiles but it never reaches his eyes, making Sara want to shift uneasily. “I’ll be on my way. I just thought I saw a familiar face.”

Not until Sara can no longer see his retreating form does she turn back to Nyssa, but the moment he had interrupted was lost. Sara wants to growl but instead she suggests they head home, so the women start walking back towards the parking lot. Nyssa keeps glancing at her and after the third time she asks, “Do you know him…another way?”

“He dated a friend of mind in college. Her name was Shado Gulong but she was killed a few years back. He blames me since I was there that night. Her ex-boyfriend, his name was Ken Sommers, had shown up at our dorm room and shot her before I could do anything.”

Sara stopped walking and looked down at the ground. “I tried to save her, Nyssa, but I couldn’t. I tried to stop the bleeding, called for help, called 911, but she was dead before they ever got there.”

The warm press of Nyssa’s fingers to her chin guides her gaze to the other woman’s. Nyssa gaze is heavy but Sara doesn’t look away, even as Nyssa says, “I’m sure you did everything you could.”

“Slade doesn’t agree. Most days, _I_ don’t agree.”

“He rents to you. He can’t still blame you.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Sara feels the old but familiar guilt coil heavy in her chest.

“Don’t do that. It’s not your fault. The only one at blame here is her violent ex-boyfriend.”

Sara feels like telling her how wrong she is, how she should have called 911 sooner, or pressed the wound to staunch the blood flow sooner, reacted sooner, but she does not. She just keeps walking toward the parking lot. After another moment of silence, Sara wracks her brain for a different subject.

“Do you and Dinah know each other?”

Nyssa nods. “Yes, we served in the same unit together. She’s the one who told me about your gym.”

“I’m glad she did,” Sara says. The heat of embarrassment creeps up her neck as she ducks her head and focuses on digging the helmets out of the saddlebags of her bike that they have just come up on.

The sun is setting by the time they get back to Sara’s apartment. Sara showers while Nyssa makes them dinner, a habit formed over the last week. It gives her time to bask in the warmth of the spray and try to wash away the old guilt she feels anew even though it has never worked in the past. She scrubs her skin raw until the water runs cold.

Dinner is not as good as Laurel’s but she’ll never tell Nyssa that. It is still good and she does tell her that. The smile it brings to her face is stunning and Sara is sure she could look at her forever. “We both know it’s not as good as your sister’s.”

“Laurel took cooking classes while she was going to law school. She’s always been an overachiever.”

“Something I can empathize with. Not the cooking classes, but the overachieving. My father always demanded perfection. Though, I believe, beyond himself, he only assigned the actual value of perfection to Talia. A part of me wonders if he thought her invincible, undefeatable, and that is why he sent her into that death trap…” Nyssa shakes her head and smiles sadly.

“Your father sounds like a real piece of work.”

“He is,” Nyssa agrees and takes a bite of food, chewing slowly.

“We’re a sad bunch today, aren’t we? I think we should finish the night with a comedy. I need a good laugh,” Sara says as she pushes her finished plate away from her.

“Before that, there is one more thing I’d like to say. I am a very skilled soldier. I have trained, been trained by, and often worked with well-trained soldiers, but there is one lesson all soldiers learn early.” Nyssa pauses, attempts to convey her hard-won wisdom through her eyes and when it appears to have no effect, settles with standing and moving closer to Sara. “You cannot save everyone. You can do everything right and not save someone. It is so easy—too easy—to blame yourself with scenarios of what could have been. It is simply what it is. You did not kill Shado. You did not let Shado die through poor or lack of action.”

Nyssa’s eyes are intense and Sara can’t look away, even as she remains silent and thoughtful. After a moment she nods. “I understand the point you’re trying to make, but it may take some time for it to sink in.”

“I see you hurting and you don’t deserve that. It was never your fault,” Nyssa repeats firmly once more, brushing her fingers over Sara’s cheek. Then she grabs the plate in front of Sara, letting her counsel linger as she takes the dishes back to the sink.

They end the night, as promised, on the couch together, watching one of Sara’s favorite comedians. Nyssa’s laughter is a gift she has not had the fortune of hearing but one other time. If Nyssa leans closer than any of their previous nights spent together, Sara does not mention it. She is also grateful when Nyssa doesn’t comment on Sara leaning her head down on her shoulder as they shake in laughter together.

\--

Sara wakes in the middle of the night to a phone call. It takes her a moment to find the device, and when she does the woman on the other end of the phone sounds scared, crying out, “He was going to kill me. I had to, Sara, I’m so sorry!”

“Had to what? What happened?” Even as she asks, she does not hesitate to throw a jacket and pants on. The woman on the other end of the line only sobs in answer, and it takes some coaxing to get her location. No other details were given, despite Sara’s attempts at persuading her. Sara has enough forethought to scrawl a quick note for Nyssa and tells her where she is going.

The smoke curling up past the skyline, blotting out the starry night is a warning sign before the gym comes into view. The blaze that greets her has engulfed her building and three surrounding buildings by the time she gets there. She gets off of her bike, hanging the helmet on the handle hastily and looks around for the caller. Her searching eyes finds the woman huddled on the ground a few feet away.

Crouching, she places a hand on the woman’s shoulder.

The knife comes out of nowhere, but glints in the firelight soon enough that Sara is able to kick the woman’s wrist, trying to force her to drop the blade. It is not enough and the metal lodges itself into her abdomen just below her breast. Her pain-stricken mind reacts on instinct, grabbing the hilt, ripping it out. At the same time, a black material slides over her head and strong arms grab her from behind before she gets knocked unconscious, knife slipping from her fingers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day early as I wasn't sure if I'd have time to post on Sunday. Please enjoy!

Nyssa wakes to the sound of the door closing. She sees the note and quickly reads it before grabbing her own jacket and heading out the door. She hears the growl of the bike speeding down the road and curses the amount of time it takes to get to her own car, in the parking lot of the next building over.

When she gets to the gym, Sara’s bike is parked nearby. She scans the area for her, for anyone. There is no one in sight, but something on the pavement catches her attention. A knife lies a few feet away from some blood splattered on the pavement. Her blood runs cold when she sees the symbol on the hilt. She does not know how her father is involved in this, but she intends to find out.

A stop at her apartment is the only delay, as she drags a small safe out of her bedroom closet. Keying in the code, the door swings open to reveal several guns and ammunition. She wraps a holster belt around her waist and straps the items into it.

She is on the road shortly after, calling Dinah as she drives. “I’m fairly certain Sara has been kidnapped and my father has something to do with it.”

“What? Call the police.”

Nyssa explains what happened. “I can’t let my father’s deep pockets in this city potentially fail me. Fail Sara. I need you to get in contact with Helena. I have a feeling I’m going to need you both for what’s coming.”

“…No problem. Stay safe. Let me know what you need from us.”

\--

The three hour drive to The League’s headquarters is made longer by the lack of clarity of the situation. Whether Sara is alive, hurt, or worse, hangs over her head and she cranks the radio as loud as it will go to drown out any thoughts she may have about it. The sun is nearly rising as the building comes into view.

A part of her is surprised when her access card still allows her into the elevator, but it also tells her that her father hasn’t cut her completely off since her leaving. She loads a gun before the doors open then marches down the hallway with all of the confidence her skills have ever given her.

The double-doors to his office slam and shatter against the walls when she kicks it in. She trains her gun on the office chair turned away from her. “Where is she? Where is Sara?”

“Who?” her father asks as he swivels in the chair to face her, leaning onto his desk, fingers steepled.

“Please do me the courtesy of not acting the imbecile. We both know better than that.” She hopes the venom in her voice cuts him as he has cut her and Talia; especially Talia.

Unruffled, Ra’s al Ghul’s eyebrows raise in mock understanding as he says, “Oh! You mean the woman whose apartment you’ve been sharing. I can’t imagine there’s anything wrong with yours since they’re identical.”

Nyssa advances, never losing her sights on the man. “I care for her, Father. Nothing you can do or say will change that. On the other hand, I do not care for or need your acceptance.”

A battle of wills plays out as they stare at each other. Resolve hardens Nyssa’s gaze and she cannot help her lip curling in anger. Her father breaks first, leaning back in a sigh as he closes his eyes. “I’m not lying, Nyssa. I don’t know where she is.”

“Where have you taken her?”

Cold, dark eyes find her once more. “I have taken her nowhere.”

Nyssa tucks the gun back into a holster and digs through another pouch at her waist before withdrawing the knife she found at the gym. She stalks forward and throws it on his desk before slamming her hands down onto the wood. A folder catches her attention but she quickly focuses back on the man before her. “Then explain the blood on a League-made knife outside of her gym.”

He waves his hands as if he is not speaking to his distraught daughter and she is merely a secretary asking too many questions. “Oh. Then it may have something to do with a little side deal I’ve got going on in Starling.”

“Dammit, Father, what have you done?!” Nyssa yells as her temper finally breaks. He will learn she is so much more than he has ever credited her.

“I gave a few weapons to a new gang in the city. Obviously, since they’re newer, they didn’t have the capital for them, so instead they’re going to do something for me.”

“What? What was their assignment?”

“To create chaos however they saw fit. Brilliant idea, but it wasn’t mine, it was my Second’s. I think she had a little side deal with Slade Wilson to ruin his properties for the insurance payout.”

“To what end, Father? What’s the real goal here?”

Her father stands and grins, walking to one of the floor-length windows, surveying the city. “Gotham City has one remarkable asset. The shipping port.”

Nyssa can’t stop the growl that comes to her throat. “What does that have to do with Starling?”

“Didn’t you hear? Gotham’s Mayor is coming to town to meet with Starling’s Mayor.” Her father turns toward her and realization settles over her face.

“Mirakuru is drawing police into the Glades as a distraction! You’re planning to kidnap the Mayor of Gotham City! Well, Father, that gang you supplied has a grudge against Sara. Tell me where they are based out of. I must save her.”

“That’s interesting. She never mentioned that,” Ra’s says as he strokes a hand over his chin in thought.

“Who? Dammit, father, just tell me what I need to know!”

He continues as if he did not hear her. “Tell me, Nyssa, do you still blame me for Talia’s death?”

She can’t help the sting in her eyes but she will not cry in front of the Head of the League. She breathes out, “Of course I do.”

“Then take this as a way to amend my mistakes.” He bends over and digs through a drawer at the bottom of his desk.

Nyssa uses that distraction to take the folder that caught her eye when she first walked up to the desk, tucked at the bottom of a large pile on the corner, only the name tab visible outside the rest of the stack. Ra’s eventually takes a piece of paper out and slides it towards her. “Mirakuru is based here. This is where you will find your beloved Sara Lance. Oh, and Nyssa? You won’t be able to stop my other plans, so don’t bother trying.”

Armed with what she needs, Nyssa leaves without another word.

\--

She meets Dinah at the woman’s apartment, greeting Helena Bertinelli who is sitting at Dinah’s table in her uniform, detective’s shield glinting in the light from the dining room, when she walks in. She relays the information to them as she slams a heavy black duffel bag on the table. A paper sits on top of a pile of weapons, that she folds and tucks into her pocket. She then begins handing out the weapons generously donated by her father’s personal stash at his headquarters.

“So, he’s planning on kidnapping Michael Akins while he’s in Starling. That’s today. The meeting is in four hours,” Dinah says.

“My father said his Second is in the city. If we can find her, she can put a stop to it, but…my priority is getting Sara out. I can’t…I won’t lose her,” her voice breaks and she clears her throat, “I do not know who his Second is. It was me, but he must have appointed someone else after my absence.”

“I’m sure we can manage both,” Helena says as she gives Nyssa a meaningful look. Helena has experience with getting what she wanted while thwarting a crime boss family and Nyssa’s courage is bolstered by this. “We’ve done more with less.”

They set out planning the entry with the blueprints they find on the local library’s website. They do not have a lot of time to so they prepare as quickly as they can. Once they feel they have an adequate entry plan, they all load into Nyssa’s Jeep and head towards the Glades of Starling City.

The building they find at the listed address looks like it is about to fall down, an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the Glades. The four vehicles, one Nyssa knows is League-issued, tells her it is not so abandoned. Lights are on inside.

They circle the perimeter before finding the pre-designated side entrance. Helena places the charges. Nyssa nods and they begin their breach. There is no turning back now, though Nyssa has zero plans of that happening, no matter what may greet her inside.

No guards rush to greet her when they first enter. Nyssa points the other two toward each side of the room and she goes down the middle herself. She creeps slowly but steadily, each footstep deliberate as she takes in her surroundings. Various pallets stacked on the shelves obscure her line of sight and she takes care to keep low and peer around every corner, nodding to Helena and Dinah at ever aisleway that opens between them.

To her left, she hears the first punch thrown followed by a grunt. She keeps half an ear on the ensuing scuffle as she continues toward the center of the room. Before she can peek around the next aisle, a blonde man comes swinging a pipe towards her.

When she ducks his swing, he throws it to the ground and pulls a gun out of his waistband. Shoving his arm up, they grapple with their free hands to get a good grip on the other. The gun fires in their struggle but Nyssa eventually gets leverage to slam his wrist into her knee, forcing him to drop it. While she is doing this, the man is able to get a punch in to her jaw.

As he’s withdrawing that arm, Nyssa grabs a hold of it and flips him over her shoulder, foot going into his throat as she bends his wrist backwards, holding him in place as she hisses, “Where is Sara?”

Stepping off his throat, she keeps the pressure on his wrist as she waits for an answer. When none comes, she delivers a hefty kick to his head, knocking him unconscious. The sounds of the fight to her left are gone and she trusts Dinah won her fight as she presses forward.

Spotting the center, she crouches low, hiding behind the crates as she moves toward it. There, she sees Sara. To the left of her, she sees a familiar face and her eyes widen. At first glance, she assumes it was the woman Sara had gone to help, but as she looks closer she sees that the blonde is not bound. Her blood burns in her veins and she tightens her grip on the gun.

“Hands up!” Nyssa projects her voice across the space, drawing the woman’s attention. Instead of doing as Nyssa demands, a gun is leveled on Nyssa’s chest. Nyssa steps fully into view and keeps her gun centered.

“Hello, Nyssa.”


	6. Chapter 6

Consciousness comes slowly. Sara tries to rub an eye, but finds her hands bound behind her. Full realization descends as she struggles against the chair she’s tied to. Pain lances through her stomach and she stops struggling long enough to realize she also feels the pull of tape and stitches under the padding of bandages on her abdomen. She is surprised they had chosen to patch her up.

Across from her, Sydney is in a similar position. Sara growls at the man whose back is turned toward her. “Don’t you dare hurt her.”

The man turns and Sara’s eyes widen as he says, “Hurt her? She’d kill me for that, don’t worry.”

Slade and Sydney chuckle as Sara’s eyes slide back to the woman and her still-addled brain finally takes in the fact that her student is not bound as Sara is, does not appear to be in distress at all. Sara tugs at the handcuffs pinning her hands behind her as the urge to fling herself at Slade surges through her.

“What is this? Sydney, if he’s making you do this—” She’s cut off by Sydney’s barking laugh.

“Making me? He works for me, or rather, he works for my employer.” Sydney stands, yelling, “Get her up!”

“She said, get her up!” Slade growls.

“Yes, Boss!” a familiar voice calls from behind Sara.

Three men come from somewhere behind her. Thomas and Billy haul her up as Christopher pulls a chain suspended from the ceiling towards her. Once she is standing, she slams her foot down on Thomas’, causing him to yowl in pain but Billy punches her in the gut and the pain of it doubles her over. She cries out as Christopher grabs her wrists and yanks her forward, causing her to stumble.

Sara grunts as she half pushes herself and is half yanked back into a standing position. “I knew you weren’t that smart, Christopher.”

He punches her again and wraps the end of the chain around and through her handcuffed hands, padlocking the end of the chain to a higher portion, securely hanging her there. She screams as she lashes out with her feet but loses her leverage as she is hoisted into the air, her wrists screaming in protest of holding the entirety of her weight.

Sydney approaches her and Sara bares her teeth. “I helped you!”

Her captor laughs. “Helped me? Your form was terrible. I learned more in a week from Nyssa. Now then, I promised the boys some revenge.”

“And that’s my cue. Believe me, Sara, tonight will be the first night that I will sleep well, knowing you finally got what you deserved,” Slade growls at her as he walks past, continuing on his way out.

The three men Sara cannot stand move towards her. Muscles tense as Sara prepares herself for the punch she sees coming. She tries her best to retaliate but she is left with no leverage as Christopher and his friends take their turns beating on her. She feels relief even as her aching body hits the floor, too relieved to have her weight taken off of her wrists. A new horror fills her when she sees Christopher pawing at his crotch. She does her best to crawl away as they advance on her.

She’s surprised when Sydney is suddenly in front of her, hands raised in front of her, as if to fight. “Don’t. You got what you were promised. Anything further and I will not hesitate to put you down.”

Christopher laughs and looks at his friends. “You’re just one woman.”

Sara tries her best to glare at him, trying to remind him of what ‘just one woman’ did to him a few weeks back. That knowledge does not stop her eyes from widening at the pure efficiency with which Sydney lays the men out, unconscious. It hardly takes her thirty seconds.

“No wonder you picked everything up fast,” Sara murmurs. “Why, though? Why help me now? Why take classes at the gym? I don’t get your part in all this.”

Sydney frowns at her. Crying out when the woman hauls her up by her cuffs and puts her into the chair she was in when she first woke in this place. The other blonde sits across from her, silently for some time, before she says, “Shado was my sister.”

Heart suddenly pounding out of her chest, Sara’s eyes widen and she’s frozen. All she can do is listen.

“We had different mothers and weren’t raised together. I was just starting to get to know her when she was taken from me. When you failed to protect her. Slade told me you were there that night. You must have thought it was your lucky day when he offered to lease you that gym for so cheap. You’re welcome for that. He’ll more than make up for that with the insurance payout.”

“I run that gym because of Shado, because of what happened. I wish every day I’d been able to do more. I’m just starting to learn that some men do things just because they are men and just because they can. He’s the one to blame, not me!” As Sara says it, she feels the vindication wash over her. She’d never believed it when others said it to her, easier to blame herself with things she should have done better. “The truth is, Sydney, the police’s lack of evidence allowed him to get off with a slap on the wrist after he committed murder. That’s on him.”

Expression unreadable, Sydney just stares. “I joined your gym to see the heights from which I was going to cause you to fall...and...not everything I told you about myself was a lie and there are some things no one deserves." Sara's heart pounds in her ears in the ensuing silence before it's broken by Sydney continuing, "Anyway, you can rest well in the fact that her murderer no longer walks this Earth. I made sure of that. ”

A need for vengeance she didn’t know she had is quelled by Sydney’s news. Another wave of relief washes over Sara and despite her circumstances, she feels lighter than she has in years, since she was a teenager, long before everything changed in the wake of Shado’s death. For the first time, she can lay the blame at the feet of the man who took Shado’s life. She does not know which things she’s referring to when she tells Sydney, “Thank you.”

The look on Sydney’s face is almost grateful but that does not stop her from backhanding Sara so hard she loses consciousness again.

\--

She claws her way into awareness once more. Sydney is pointing a gun at someone and Sara’s eyes travel the trajectory of the gun to find Nyssa standing at the other side of the room. She looks unfazed, if slightly bloodied and bruised. Hope blossoms in Sara’s chest as she thinks she might actually make it out of this alive. It is quickly replaced by fear for Nyssa. “Sydney, don’t!”

“Sydney.” Nyssa rolls her name over her tongue as if for the first time, as realization further strikes. “You’re my father’s Second. You work for the League.”

“Guess I take after my father. Did you know him, Nyssa? Lao Fei?” Sydney cries, turning her gun from Nyssa and towards Sara. Sara doesn’t give her the satisfaction of looking intimidated.

“Of him, yes. Talia trained him. Please, don’t do this. Sara has nothing to do with this.”

“Nothing to do with this?” Sydney screeches, laughing loudly. “She has everything to do with this. She’s the reason my baby sister is dead. She let Shado die!”

Several emotions slide over Nyssa’s face before settling on understanding. Sara watches as Nyssa hesitates before dropping her gun, beginning to search through her pockets. It takes her a moment to take out a folded piece of paper. “Who killed Shado?”

The woman doesn’t spare her a look, hand trembling slightly as she screams, “What did you say?”

“Tell me, who was the man that killed Shado? What was his name?” Nyssa asks as she unfolds the paper.

“Sommers. Ken Sommers.”

Nyssa’s hand moves out slowly but that does not stop Sydney from putting her finger on the trigger. The blonde grabs the proffered paper, gun lowering as she begins to read. She turns it over, checking the back and Sara watches the shock register on her face before she hisses, “Impossible! Why? What is this?”

“When I confronted my father in his office about his involvement in this, a file name tugged at a memory I couldn’t quite place. Gulong. The folder was empty, but I made a few phone calls while I was pilfering arms from The League. I made another stop at a computer before leaving The League’s headquarters. Though marked terminated, Sommers file was easy to find. My father had Shado killed because your father refused to carry out an assassination. My father dislikes disobedience, as I’m sure you know. Sommers was likely a plant from the very beginning.”

Sydney throws the paper and it flutters towards Sara. Sydney lunges at Nyssa, but the brunette is quick to knock her gun arm out of the way and they begin grappling. Sara cannot pay any more attention to it as her gaze takes in the paper that’s landed beside her. It is an employee information page for Ken Sommers, the face she’ll never forget, permanently seared into her memory twisted in a rage. The stylized arrowhead of The League brands the corner.

Mind racing with a million thoughts, she squeezes her eyes shut and tucks them away for later. She focuses back on the fight happening between Sydney and Nyssa. The fight that was happening, anyway. Dinah and a detective Sara does not know have Sydney held struggling between them, her and Nyssa both panting for air.

“Please, Sydney. Help me stop him from kidnapping the Mayor. You don’t owe him anything. _He killed my sister, too_.”

The war going on inside of Sydney displays itself across her face as various emotions fight for dominance within her. Eventually, she wrenches free of the two women’s grip and throws herself onto the chair that she had pulled up earlier, holding her head in her hands. Dinah and the cop stay close to her.

Nyssa uses that moment to run to Sara and pulls her up and into her arms. With her arms still bound behind her, Sara cannot return the embrace, but she presses her face into Nyssa’s neck and breathes in the scent of her. The strong arms wrapped around her make her feel safe and she draws in that comfort for an immeasurable amount of time.

When they finally part, Sydney’s shaking her head. “You can’t stop it. It’s not a kidnapping. It’s an assassination. He wants to install a Mayor that’s in his pocket so that he can freely use Gotham’s docks to export weapons to the Middle East.”

“Please, give me the keys to her cuffs,” Nyssa asks and Sydney complies. As she’s undoing the cuffs, Nyssa continues, “There’s got to be a way. Who’s carrying out the assassination? When?”

“Slade is doing it himself. It’s radio silence until after the kill. If he hears from me, he’ll know something is wrong.”

“Be that as it may, we both know there’s a way out of this. Every League mission has a cease and desist codeword,” Nyssa states and looks around until she spots the radio sitting on a crate. She grabs it and holds it out. “Call him off.”

Sydney side-eyes Nyssa before grabbing the radio. Just before she presses the button to speak, she asks, “How do you know I won’t alert him to my situation?”

“And give my father what he wants? I know I wouldn’t.”

One moment later, she presses the button. “Slade.”

“Here.”

“Khial,” Sydney whispers it like it’s a weight being lifted from her shoulders.

A pause. “Understood.”

Everyone in the room breathes a collective sigh of relief. Helena steps forward. “I’ve called the cops. They should be here soon. I did a little looking around while you two were fighting. There’s enough evidence here to tie this to Slade and the three men we encountered here, but not much tying it back to The League.”

Nyssa grabs the fallen paper from the floor. “I think this will go a long way in helping Sydney’s full confession along.”

Sydney purses her lips but does not say anything.

Crouching down before her, Nyssa looks imploringly at her. “Please, Sydney. You can make my father pay for the crimes he’s committed.”

Sara joins her, a hand coming to rest on Sydney’s knee. “I loved Shado and I am so sorry for what has happened, but you have a chance at finding true justice, not for her executioner, but the man who ordered it. Please.”

Sydney looks at Sara and sighs. “Yes. I’ll do it.”

Sara stands and moves closer to Nyssa, leaning against her side as the brunette wraps an arm around her waist to help support her. She had missed this woman, the press of her skin, the smell of her shampoo in her hair.

“And Nyssa?”

Nyssa turns her attention back toward Sydney.

“Thank you. For the truth.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Sara squints at the familiar cityscape of the Glades. It was hectic in the aftermath of the kidnapping and foiled assassination attempt. Sara wanted to spend time with Nyssa, the stolen conversations and texts not enough after all but living together for over a month but the former soldier had asked her to go with her and, of course, Sara was going to follow but she would still like to know where.

Nyssa smiles from the driver’s seat of her Jeep. “Have patience, it will be well worth maintaining it.”

Sara huffs but quiets for the rest of the drive. The warehouse they pull up to looks significantly better than the one Nyssa had all but carried her out of almost three weeks ago. While still in the Glades, they were on the outskirts of the nicer parts of Starling City. The parking lot Nyssa pulls into has several other vehicles parked in it and now Sara turns suspicious eyes on Nyssa.

“Follow me,” Nyssa grabs her hand, lacing their fingers together as she leads Sara to the door in the center. Holding it open, she motions for Sara to go first, entering behind her.

Taking a few hesitant steps in the dark, Sara does not have to wait long. The lights come on and she cannot help the gasp that gets drowned out by the group of people yelling, “Surprise!”

All of her students are there—noticeably sans Sydney—clapping and cheering behind Laurel, Dinah, and her father’s grinning faces. They are standing in the center of a training mat, brand new gym equipment that Sara could have never afforded bracketing all of the mirrored walls. There are more rooms and doors to things Sara makes a mental note to explore as soon as she gets the chance.

“Guys, what is this?” she asks, a grin splitting her face so much it hurt.

“The students had the idea,” Dinah says, coming in for a hug. “But you can thank Nyssa for making it happen.”

Nyssa smiles, hands folded gently in front of her. “They wanted to pool their resources for it, but I know how you would have felt about that. After my father was convicted, he relinquished his assets to me. I started this as a subsidiary of The League and have papers almost finished to sell it to you for a very reasonable cost, allowing you to keep your loan money to do as you wish with. I’ve taken control of my father’s company, as you’ve heard, and have plans for rebranding, but that is a discussion for another time.”

Sara throws herself at Nyssa, hugging her tightly before turning to the gathering. “Thank you so much, you guys. This is—this is beyond belief.”

One of her oldest students, Mel, steps out of the crowd and pulls her into a quick hug. “You have done so much for us, after all that happened, we all wanted to do something for you. You’ve instilled hope where we once thought there was none. Mirakuru and others like them terrorized the Glades and us women, in particular, but Canary Women’s Gym has always been a safe haven and will continue to be. You taught us to be strong and you’ve ultimately made the Glades a much safer place. Thank you, Sara.”

Tears gather in her eyes and she pulls Mel into her again, holding her tightly until she thinks she can speak without her voice breaking. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I won’t let you down.”

Mel squeezes her shoulder. “Never.”

Sara then makes it her mission to thank every single person there. Dinah waves her off and says she can thank her by letting her work on a volunteer basis as she’s decided to apply to the Starling City Police Department. Hugging her friend, Sara wishes her well and makes a mental note that she is going to have to hire again and she doubts it’ll be as easy as getting Nyssa was.

She floats through the groups for the next several hours. She is surprised to see her sister chatting with Helena Bertinelli, the detective Nyssa had introduced her to two weeks ago, explaining her part in foiling Sydney and Ra’s al Ghul’s plans. When she’s speaking with them, she’s surprised to find Laurel blushing, shoulder pressing against Helena’s as they tell her a story about one of Laurel’s cases that Helena was called as a witness on.

“By the way,” Laurel says as Sara was turning to move on, “Sydney will be going into Witness Protection in exchange for her testimony against Ra’s al Ghul.”

Sara’s lips press into a line. “I’m not sure what I hoped for, to be honest. Perhaps she’ll become a better person with the justice she found.”

“There’s more. Slade was finally apprehended and indicted on insurance fraud. Christopher, Billy, and Thomas have all been arrested in connection with the fires and some of Mirakuru’s lower members have been flipping on them, so it won’t be long before we can connect Slade to Mirakuru. It’s not looking good for any of them,” Helena adds.

“Good. They deserve whatever is coming to them.” Sara glowers before turning it into a smirk and she winks as she tries to lighten the mood, “And so do you two!”

When most everyone gets focused on Quentin showing them proper firearm safety—the women have taken quite a liking to her father despite his gruff exterior—she finds herself at the refreshment table, grabbing a bottle of water. That is when she spots Nyssa, watching from the side but with a small smile on her lips. She makes her way over to her.

“I don’t know how I can ever thank you,” Sara says.

“No need. We were all in need of saving. I needed purpose. These women need you. You simply needed capital. Money is nothing in the wake of what you have done for us…for me.” Nyssa is looking at her now, closer than Sara had thought they were. She slides her hand up Nyssa’s arm and holds her elbow.

“Still,” Sara protests. “Thank you so much.”

Nyssa smiles, closing the gap between them that Sara tried to so many weeks ago and her lips are soft, warm against Sara’s own. It is exactly like she had pictured and so much more. The moment was a long time coming and she relishes every moment. She feels so connected to her, in so many ways. In so many more, she hopes.

When they part, Nyssa looks at her with all the love Sara feels in her warm gaze. “Beloved, I took you into my heart the very day I met you and I love you with all of my soul. Helping you is helping myself. There is no need to thank me for that.”

The pure love that slams into Sara’s chest almost knocks her over, but she catches herself and steadies herself with her mouth against Nyssa’s once more, pulling away to whisper, “I didn’t know how much you would change my life, how much I needed to work through Shado’s death. I hardly ever talked about it. Focused on pouring those emotions into the women over there, that gym. I didn’t even realize how much I needed to hear someone—maybe the right person—say it wasn’t my fault until I was in that warehouse with Sydney. I love you.”

Sara pulls Nyssa into another hug before it evolves into a deep kiss, pouring the emotion of their confessions into it. It’s their third kiss—Sara is definitely counting—and no less magical than their first, but ends altogether too soon when they’re interrupted.

“You’re about to cause a murder, Sara, and not even I will be able to save you from prison,” Laurel says and she has a smirk on her face but her eyes sparkle as she looks pointedly across the room.

Quentin’s face is set in a scowl and his face is almost red enough to match the red of Nyssa’s leather jacket. Sara laughs as she wraps an arm around Nyssa’s waist. “Let’s get back to mingling before I give my father a heart attack.”

To her father’s chagrin, she can’t help herself from stealing one more kiss, but Quentin will tell her later he’s just happy to know she is happy and has someone who clearly cares for her. She will tell her father that not only does she love Nyssa, she loves herself, finally understands that Shado's death was not her fault, and when it makes them both cry, well, no one else will ever know.

\--  
  
_“Hope” is the thing with feathers -  
That perches in the soul -  
And sings the tune without the words -  
And never stops - at all -_

_And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -  
And sore must be the storm -  
That could abash the little Bird  
That kept so many warm -_

_I’ve heard it in the chillest land -  
And on the strangest Sea -  
Yet - never - in Extremity,  
It asked a crumb - of me._

by Emily Dickenson


End file.
